


Between leaves, corpses and innocence

by lillaseptember



Series: Between money, drugs and blood [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Mild Gore, Multi, Organized Crime, forgive me for even trying, marlana is too perfect for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillaseptember/pseuds/lillaseptember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana and Margot as Crime Wives, with their innocent little Crime Baby. <strike>And some Will and Abigail with a corpse, but that's not important.</strike></p>
            </blockquote>





	Between leaves, corpses and innocence

The sun was a gentle glow in between the treetops, soft sunrays seeping through the branches in broken fragments, scattering the ground in fractals. The slowly changing leaves transformed the whole world into a mélange of oranges, yellows and reds, the slow dulling of the summer's intensity a soft reminder of the everlasting passing of time. The soft breeze tugged at the brittle things, and they gently soared through the crisp afternoon air.

The Bloom-Verger's were enjoying a leisurely stroll through the local park in the early October ambiance. Bundled up in woolen coats and knitted scarfs and leather gloves, a beanie tucked over Clarence's small ears, they were gladly welcoming the chill that slowly settled over the city. Margot's cheeks burned rosy, as did Clarence's nose, and Alana couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips as she breathed in the clean and sharp air, the scent of decaying leaves and flowers, the raw smell of the earth that still lingered after the thunderstorm the night before.

Alana had always adored the fall, the cooler months bringing with them a sense of tranquility after the bustle of summer. Margot was simply glad to get rid of the heat, and to get an excuse to pull out her more elaborate winter wardrobe. And Clarence was a mixture of them both, preferring the biting frost over the boiling summer city heat, and enjoying the additional attention his mothers afforded to pay him once the summer business was merely more than a memory.

Clarence was walking in between them, swinging by their hands, kicking at the leaves scattered across cobblepot walkway, excitedly recounting the many adventures that transpired at kindergarten. Margot gasped in shock when Billy successfully performed a mutiny aboard Ava's pirate ship, and Alana eagerly demanded to know what happened after the alien's attacked. Clarence basked in his mothers attention, and the small family reveled in the small moment of serenity, something they all valued dearly in their ever rushing life.

But that serenity was quickly shattered as they came across the familiar jumble of jet black curls and shiny auburn ringlets.

"Uncle Will!"

Immediately recognizing the familiar backsides of Will and Abigail, Clarence had teared out of their grasps and started sprinting towards the dark silhouettes before either Margot or Alana had the chance to hold him back. They were standing some way into the small grove by the side of the walkway, to some extent hidden by the shrubs and trees, but still very much noticeable from the public path. But Clarence Bloom-Verger, 5 and a half years old, succeeded in being one of the very few things that made Will Graham nearly jump out of his own skin.

Clarence was the one entirely pure and innocent thing in all of their lives, and much to Alana and Margot's relief, no one had ever shown to have the hankering to corrupt him. He was the one pristine saint they all turned to when they wanted to forget about their sins, letting his laughter cleanse them from vices and his carefree love wash away their blasphemies. Clarence was the one virtuous being in all of their lives, and no one wanted to vitiate him.

And so, with panic clear in his eyes, Will promptly kicked the corpse down into the shallow ditch behind him as Clarence quickly made his way up to them.

Alana and Margot was hot on his heels, panic pounding hot in Alana's chest as she desperately clutched at her wife's hand. But luckily, Clarence had always been blissfully oblivious, almost blind to the darkness and wickedness that always verged at his periphery. And so he just shuffled quietly on the spot where the body of a dead man had just been lying as he curiously looked between the somewhat panicky man in the dark overcoat and the slightly rigid young girl in a light trenchcoat.

Abigail had also lost her stance momentarily at the sound of Clarence voice, and Alana had seen the sharp inhale she had took as she turned around, sharing the look of abashment that Clarence often wore whenever he was caught trying to steal from the cookie jar, while she awkwardly tried to work out what she should do with her hands. But Abigail was also the one to collect herself first, and she smiled broadly down at Clarence as she shoved her blood stained hands into the pockets of her coat. 

"Hi, Clarence."

Alana could feel herself holding her breath, squeezing harder and harder on Margot's hand as she watched the scene unfold. She was afraid to say anything, to do anything, afraid that one wrong step could make her entire world come crashing down. She watched Clarence, her small baby boy, looking between the two contract killers under _her_ employment, but just seeing close family friends. And Alana wished to all that was holy that that would not change that day.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Abigail tried, but didn't succeed, to subtly to kick some leaves to cover the small pool of blood by her feet while sill keeping the strained smile plastered to her face. But luckily Will seemed to finally come to his senses, and he crouched down just in time to capture Clarence's attention.

"Hey there, buddy," he finally greeted with a gentle smile, reaching out a hand to gently poke at Clarence's belly, on old routine of theirs. 

And the panic-stricken inhale she took almost hurt Alana's throat. 

"Will." The movement had finally urged her to act, and she could feel the ice in her own voice as she glared down at the man crouching down by her son. "Keep your bloody hands off of my son."

Will froze by her words, and as he slowly turned his gaze to meet Alana's, the confusion was apparent in his clear green eyes.

"What?" But noticing Margot's subtle head tilt, he looked down at his hands, and Alana could almost see the gears turning in his head. " _Oh_." Slowly standing up again, he tried to awkwardly dry them off on the back of his trousers, and Alana had to suppress her heavy sigh of relief. "You know what, buddy? Abigail and I are busy with some _very serious_ business."

Furrowing his eyebrows to illustrate his statement, Abigail quickly started nodding solemnly beside him to reinforce it.

"Oh." Alana could almost hear how Clarence's heart fractured, not only being denied the traditional belly poke, but also being rejected for something even more important than him. And if his boots hadn't been standing on a poorly concealed pool of blood, she would have done everything in her power to try and console him.

But the little boy's broken voice seemed to move something within the contract killer too, and shoving his bloody hands into the back pockets of his trousers, Will leaned down slightly to get closer to Clarence's level again, and dropped his voice into a faux whisper.

"But if we ask nicely, I think your moms might allow us to come over some night." Offering Clarence a quick wink and a small smirk, Abigail immediately perked up by his side.

"Yeah!" She continued, never once missing one of her adoptive father's beats. "In fact, I believe your moms deserve a good, _long_ night all to themselves. And then maybe I can come over and keep you company?"

Hopefully looking up at Alana, she just raised her eyebrows at the younger girl, and Abigail offered her one of her disturbingly innocent smiles. But Clarence just continued to gaze up at her with starstruck amazement, his eyes all but twinkling.

"Uh-huh," he breathed as Abigial smiled down at him again. He had always been a little infatuated by her, her somehow endearingly arcane aura bewitching most of those around her. And she was just about to reach out to tousle his hair when she caught sight of her blood stained hands again, and simply settled on giving him an awkward thumbs up instead.

But Clarence didn't seem to mind as he just continued to stare up at her with glistening eyes.

Margot finally seemed to have had enough of all this madness though, as she untangled herself from Alana's death grip on her hand and gently curled it around her neck instead, offering her a strained smile as she tried to offer Alana all the small support she could.

"Come on, Clarence." Turning around to face their son, she turned out her hand to him. "I think the ducks might be by the pond by now."

Staring at her in amazement as she slowly untangled this mess of a situation, Alana once again quickly thanked whoever it was that had granted her Margot's affection. She was the one to always keep her head straight, to always know exactly what to do when things got dire, to never lose her cool and calm comportment.

And Alana would be nowhere without her.

"Yay!" Promptly forgetting all about Will and Abigail by the prospect of ducks, Clarence gladly took the hand Margot offered him, excitedly chattering away as Margot calmly led him away from the murder scene, always having been such a simple child to please.

Margot had been born into this life of immorality, and she had wished for nothing more than to leave it all behind. But she had given that up in order to stay by Alana's side and to help her expand her empire. And in turn Alana had done everything in her power to give her small family as much a sense of normalcy as she could. Their home was their sanctuary from their work, and Clarence was their shrine, their reminder that they still held the power to do good in the world.

So as Will and Abigail sighed a unified and audible sigh of relief as Margot and Clarence finally disappeared out of sight, Alana immediately whirled on them.

" _What are you thinking?_ " Finally allowing the panic that burned hot in her chest to wash over her, she all but managed to restrain from grabbing a hold of Will's shoulders and shake some goddamn sense into him. "It's broad daylight, for Christ's sake!"

Gasping slightly as she tried to take it all in, she wondered how on earth they had managed to get away with it all. Not just from Clarence, but from the passersby in the slowly bustling park, with blood soaking their clothes and the ground below them, a gun lying by Will's feet and a knife protruding from one of Abigail's pockets, the merry twittering from the civic pedestrians coming from just outside of their view. 

But then again, Alana had long ago resolved to never try to understand the Graham-Lecter's.

"It was simply too easy to disregard," was the only justification Will offered her as he calmly crouched down to retrieve the gun by his feet, the firearm decocking with a soft _click_.

"Yeah, he was just walking right in front of us," Abigail elaborated as Alana tried to steady her breathing.

"That doesn't mean that you can just..." Inhaling sharply, she remembered her resolution, and groaned as she ran a hand across her face, trying to recollect herself. " _Fine_. Who was it?"

"Mr. Van Bueren."

Peering over into the small ditch behind them, where the dead body of Gerard Van Bueren was slowly bleeding out, she could feel her stomach revolting.

There was a reason she hired people for this.

Slowly retrieving, she tried to ignore Will and Abigail's curious looks on her as she tried to collect her bearings again. Looking up at the slowly setting sun behind the treetops, focusing on the cool air filling her lungs, she tried to remember the feeling of her son's hand in her own and the way Margot's lips would press against her temple.

"Fine. This should at least mean that you should all be free one evening." Turning to face them again, she gave them both her best scolding eye. "I want dinner and babysitting."

"Of course."

Will smiled slowly at her, and Abigail seemed to relax as she grinned up at her, finally facing her reprimand for trying to steal from the cookie jar, and finding it to be not even halfway as bad as she had imagined it.

"You got it!"

"And... _Please_ ," she lastly pleaded as she stepped out of the puddle of blood that was currently soaking her boots. "Do try to... _Restrain_ yourselves, in the future."

Looking up at Will again, she tried to give him her best impression of his puppy eyes, and he smiled at her again.

"Of course."

Will smile was genuine, and his promise was a solemn one, but still it didn't do anything to settle her nerves.

Because she also knew that she was talking to the two sensible members of the Graham-Lecter's, and that there really was no telling what Hannibal could possibly get up to.

And sometimes she wondered just what she had started.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So maybe the corpse was a big deal.
> 
> I feel like I didn't do Marlana justice. They're too good and pure for me. I am just simple Murder Family trash.
> 
> ~~How does Clarence not notice any of this? I don't know. I guess he's simply a cinnamon roll too good for this world, and that all the evil just ricochets off his innocent soul.~~  
>     
> I had forgotten how hard it is to juggle this many characters all at once! Like, it's really _effing_ hard. ~~I'm so sorry that you had to take the backseat Margot, but I didn't know where to _fit_ you in, and you're too flawless for my clumsy writing to corrupt anyway so... Meergggh.~~ We are dramatically minimizing the cast for next installment. That is going to be _all about_ Fred Squared.


End file.
